Thus Is Our Agreement Made
by NickTrano
Summary: Luthan T'Aldragoran Sidona and his warder-wife Leanna have been sent to negotiate with a rumored thousand Aiel surviving in Southern Murandy during the war between the wetlands and the Seanchan that broke out after Rand's disappearance in the early years of the Fourth Age.


It was the year 124 of the Fourth Age...

The Dragon was a century gone, and the Dragon's Peace died with his disappearance. It was a slow death, but the Seanchan were quickest to forget the treaties. Luthan T'Aldragoran Sidona, _Asha'man_ of the Black Tower, rode alongside his wife. It was a dusty back-country road; little more than a rough trail, truth be told. Ever since Caemlyn had fallen the Black Tower had been under constant siege, and Tar Valon was faring no better.

He didn't like the quiet. He felt eyes staring him down, ducking behind the trees and shrubs whenever he turned to look back. It wasn't the madness, Light, not that. The Dragon had cleansed _saidin_ long before Luthan's birth. Damer Flinn, the Tamyrlin, often spoke fondly of that day. "The Light's first real victory in that war," he called it.

Still, he was uneasy. "Why under the flaming light didn't we just use a gateway, Leanna?" The Black Tower did not require the same dignity and poise of its students as did the White.

Leanna Aldragoran t'Sidona, Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah and warder-wife to Luthan was the more levelheaded of the pair. Some may have called her the brains, well out of either one's earshot. "The Seanchan ward to kill, husband, and ever since they started collaring men you've become just as easily detectable as I." She rode on, with all the grace her husband lacked. Something about Malkieri reminded him of prowling wolves; Luthan still had no idea how he had been convinced to marry one.

When seen side-by-side, they appeared an odd couple. Leanna, tall and graceful with smooth features, dark hair and blue eyes stood in stark contrast to her shorter husband. Luthan was short, but thickly muscled with the hooked nose and darker skin common among Saldaeans, as well as a large beard of a fashion all his own.

Still, the risk that a gateway presented had been worth it to leave the Black Tower's grounds and reach northern Illian. The golden bees still stood against Hawkwing's descendants, and the Amyrlin Faolain Orande was doing all she could to support their continued resistance.

"_Mother's milk in a cup.._." he muttered to himself as they rode along. The darkness was all-encompassing, and they did not dare to use any source of light. Power or no, _Seanchan_ patrols were a risk neither of them wished to take.

A _thousand_ Aiel, surviving out in southern Murandy. _Too good to be true?_ Perhaps, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and none made better allies or warriors than Aiel. The war with the Seanchan was a desperate time. He started to whistle the March of Death.

It didn't matter that neither of them could see much more than a few feet ahead of themselves on the moonless night. The warder bond would have made it easy for him to point at her exact location even without the steady _clop clop_ of the horses' hooves. He looked towards his wife-or, where he knew his wife would be-and began once again the argument they had been having since before they were married.

Only a fool thought the world's troubles would be over after Tar'mon Gai'don. Luthan was no fool, but he was angry at the state of the world nonetheless. "For all bloody _Ta'veren_ were supposed to be good for, Cauthon sure didn't do anything to stop the blasted Seanchan."

"Nobody is _Ta'veren_ for life, Luthan. The wheel weaves-"

"Yes, love, _as the wheel wills_. And a whole lot of flaming good it's doing us. Light! The world was safer before we sealed _shai'tan_," and he spat for good measure, "away for good." Although he had a penchant for hyperbole, Leanna considered Luthan a mostly reasonable fellow... and he always had her to keep him on the correct path if there was ever any worry he might stray.

"And how," Luthan continued, changing the subject, "are we supposed to find these blasted Aiel?"

"They will have sentries, dearest. We _are_ headed in the right direction. They will make themselves known to us sooner or later."

He eased his sword in its' scabbard. "Why would flaming Aiel show themselves? For all they know we're-" Luthan's voice cut off at the same time as his wife gave a small yelp. A short spear had been jutted under his chin, and he felt several more prodding him in the sides.

"Wetlanders looking for those whom they should not?" An Aielman finished for him. "Greetings, I am Veraul of the White Mountain sept of the Chareen Aiel. Who are you, wetlander?" In the darkness, Luthan had no way of knowing whether they were veiled or not, nor how many bows were trained on them. Between Leanna and himself, he was sure they could kill all of the Aiel around them... but using the power in such a manner could call the Seanchan down on them all. Besides, they had been sent to win the Aiel over, not kill them. Luthan half-chuckled. _Eyes in the darkness_.

He chose his words carefully. "We are emissaries from the Black Tower, Veraul of the White Mountain Sept of the Chareen Aiel. I am Luthan T'Aldragoran Sidona, and that is my warder and wife Leanna Aldragoran T'Sidona."

As he finished his introduction, he heard his wife giving much the same explanation. "...my warder and husband, Luthan..." The Aiel were clever, burn him for saying so. It would be easy to catch them in a lie by keeping them apart, not allowing them to build on each other's stories. Luckily for Luthan, they were not liars. Flinn had sent them to call a thousand _algai'd'siswai _to the cause.

Veraul looked over to his counterpart who was questioning the wetlander woman. Flashing handtalk-after the true scale of the conflict with the Seanchan had presented itself, _far dareis mai_ had reluctantly conceded its tactical value and shared their secrets-they quickly corroborated the two stories. Wetlander night sight was sub-par, but even if the wetlanders had seen their hand signals they would not have understood.

"Very well, Asha'man. We will bring you to our Wise Ones. They will hear you out." The strange wetlander seemed relieved as he heard the _swish _of fabric that accompanied the unveiling of forty spears. "I hope they like what you have to say. I would not dance the spears with one such as you if I can avoid it." Veraul was no coward-even the most fearful wretch amongst the Aiel was like a lion-but all Aiel remembered the battle of Dumai's Wells. The traitorous Shaido perished in the tens of thousands, to few more than two hundred Asha'man.

The wetlands were softer than the three-fold-land, but the Seanchan were harder. The Wise Ones would not risk open combat with them if they could avoid it. Karyla Sedai had ordered them to safely transport an important relic-foretold that it would be crucial for the Age of Legends to return-and thus the water oath had been given. They would see the red ter'angreal to safety, if it meant all of their lives. And if these two newcomers threatened their mission, they would have to die.

The sun was beginning to creep up along the horizon by the time Luthan and the forty-odd Aiel had crested a hill and came within sight of the makeshift hold. Built into a small valley-little more than a crevice, really-with freshly felled trees serving the dual-purpose of roof and camouflage. From the size of their shelter, far fewer than the rumored thousand Aiel were present. They had kept their horses going at a canter for hours, yet the Aiel had kept up the pace easily. In fact, the animals looked worse for wear than they did. Blood and ashes, but they expected a thousand Aiel warriors lean and ready, not... _this._

His wife would not be deterred any longer by the forty Aielmen who had formed their escort-or captors-and thus, embodying the Aes Sedai tendency to order around those over whom they had no power, turned in her saddle to face Veraul and her tone was that of slight annoyment."Take us to your Wise Ones immediately, Aielman. We have much to discuss and little time." Light, he loved her when she had that look about her.

"The Wise Ones will decide when it is they would like to meet with you, wetlander." He said no more, and kept walking leaving them no choice but to follow or be left behind.

"Surely your Wise Ones can make time for the two Towers," his wife protested. She got her answer in silence and the sight of Veraul's back. Sighing, she flicked her horse's reins and began to follow. Luthan did the same. _Flaming woman_, he loved her but sometimes she was too stubborn for her own good.

When they finally reached the entrance to the hold-a small opening in the rock face that would allow no more than three men to walk abreast-Veraul stopped and raised his hand in greeting. It took a moment for Luthan to notice the maiden standing guard, her_ cadin'sor_ blended so well with the stone. She was almost as tall as he was, _burn her soul_, and she looked deadly with her short spears and buckler. A bow was slung over her shoulder and Luthan would bet a castle against a cat that she knew how to use it.

"I see you, Sianna." Veraul said in that odd Aiel manner of combining humor with solemnity.

The maiden looked over the patrol, and their two strange guests, without betraying even a hint of surprise. "I see you, Veraul."

"These two wetlanders-Asha'man and Aes Sedai-have asked to speak with the Wise Ones. Why don't you go tell them we have guests?"

Her eyes hardened-as if they could get any harder-at being used as a messenger. Such things were clearly the realm of_ gai'shain _as far as she was concerned. But she went, and they waited. The sun had risen above the tops of the trees by the time she came back to meet them.

"The Wise Ones will see you now, wetlanders." And with those eight words she returned to her post, watching everything around them as the party prepared to make its way into the hold. The horses were dismounted and left outside with the watcher. Before Luthan passed under the stone archway, he noticed the other maiden who had been standing there the whole time._ Flaming Aiel..._

Once inside the hold, it was a short walk from the entrance to a small cave near the end of the crevice. The Aiel had dug out small shelters in the rock, and there were rough wooden roofs and frames all around. However there was no sign of the rumored thousand Aiel. At most three hundred could have found shelter there. Still, three hundred were better than none he told himself. He hoped Flinn was of a similar mind.

"My journey with you ends here, wetlanders. Our Wise Ones await inside." He turned to walk away, "May you always find water and shade." And with that Veraul stepped out of their lives.

"Come, husband," his wife ordered. And he thought he had gotten off easy when he married a woman not from his native Saldaea. He followed at her command; after all, it was best to let a woman think she held the reins and only argue when something important came up-a light hand was best at the reins with any woman.

_This isn't right, not at all_. The Tamyrlin-it still stung a little that the station existed, and she had been raised more than half a century after its' inception-had sent them here on strong evidence. Where were the other half thousand Aiel? Leanna mulled it over in her head as she came face to face with the three Wise Ones-or at least, that was what she assumed the first Aiel women she had seen to wear dresses and shawls to be. Hard times made hard women, and these were even harder. She only sensed the ability to channel in one of them-pretty, she supposed, if in an exotic manner.

Judging from the fact that her husband was too-obviously looking at anything in the room aside from that particular Wise One, her supposition was correct. She curtsied-not too deep, just enough to show respect among equals-as her husband bowed. "Greetings, Wise Ones of the Chareen Aiel. I am Leanna Aldragoran T'Sidona, and this is my husband Luthan T'Aldragoran Sidona. We represent the two Towers."

The room was littered with pillows, and a redstone square stood in the center of the room. It was twisted in an odd way, such that the eyes could not trace its entire shape. It almost made her head hurt trying to comprehend it. It was tall enough for an Ogier to walk through-or at least, she assumed so. The Ogier had long since withdrawn to their remote _stedding_. They hadn't the stomach to stand against Seanchan slaughter.

The grand introduction did little to impress the three women, who simply continued to look at them, almost as though they were looking at an ant. The one standing in the center of the group-not the one who could channel-responded. "What is your request, wetlander?" Just that-no names, nothing.

"We..." like most Aes Sedai, she was unused to being taken so lightly, "we have been sent by the Tamyrlin of the Black Tower to offer you shelter."

The woman barked a laugh, and her two companions smiled. There wasn't the faintest bit of humor in any of their demeanours, though. "Why should we find shelter with the Black Tower? Soon as late, the Seanchan will collar you all. We are not yet ready to wake from the dream; much remains to be done." She crossed her arms under her breasts and waited for a rebuttal.

"What could be more important than fighting the Seanchan? They have already collared hundreds of your Wise Ones, and if we fall there will be no hope of stopping them. You were supposed to be the enforcers of the Dragon's Peace!" That seemed to make the Aiel woman flinch, but she still did not give the answer Leanna wanted to hear. _Stubborn woman!_

"Karlya Sedai has our water oath. We must see this reconstructed _ter'angreal _to safety." The woman had the gall to tap her foot, as though she had some pressing matter to deal with and Leanna but a nuisance.

"That-thing-is a_ ter'ang-" _That was when her _flami-dearest_ husband chose to cut in.

"What is a water oath?" He asked simply.

"An oath that cannot be broken." She answered, also simply.

"And what would convince you to make such an oath?" They both asked in unison, although Leanna's contained a few less "flaming"s and "bloody"s than Luthan's.

"The foretelling. This _ter'angreal_ will be crucial to bringing the return of the Age of Legends. The wheel weaves as the wheel wills, and we swore to carry this until we found a man." She did not continue.

Leanna had to find out more-not because she truly cared about the solemn duty of the Wise Ones before her, but rather so she could find some way to convince them otherwise. "And what is that man supposed to do?"

"He will be forced into the doorframe as we die with the woman he loves." A hard prophecy, for a hard people. No worse than that which they had prepared for on the eve of Tar'mon Gai'don. "We know nothing of what will happen afterwards, only that it is-"

She was cut off by a loud explosion, and cries of "up spears!" The Seanchan had found them-_how?!_

Luthan siezed the power that instant-his blood boiling as his soul froze-he felt _alive. _"Leanna, link with me!" He shouted over the sounds of bloody battle raging outside. "Blood and ashes, woman! Hurry!" She did not link with him, however. She stood considering.

"Leanna, what in seven hells are you doing?!" Then she turned to him, with the same sad smile she would give someone on their deathbed-or would give him from hers.

"Karlya did have the Foretelling, Luthan."_ No._ She couldn't have been saying what he was hearing.

"Good, that means we're going to get through this!" He tried to laugh-desperately, "These Aiel have to survive to find their man!" Tears welled in her eyes as she siezed the power and he felt the telltale goose prickles on his skin.

Only then did he realize he stood directly in front of the redstone doorframe. The Wise Ones had moved aside. "Your honor is mine, wetlander," and "May you always find water and shade." _What were they saying?_

As the Wise Ones professed their respect, Leanna laughed sadly to herself. "We all have to make sacrifices," as the tears began to fall, "Goodbye, husband." And then the blast of air hit him, and he flew through the frame. Before he could stop himself, he was blinded by a blast of white light and deafened by a roaring screech. When he regained his senses, he was on his knees before a tall, hairless man with pointed ears.

The odd man stood completely calm and still. "Do you have any iron on your person?" He asked simply.

He couldn't _feel_ her. Anywhere in the world, he could point out right where she was, no matter the distance... "Where am I?! Answer me you flaming snake!" Luthan clawed his way to his feet in a rage. Oddly, he couldn't seem to grasp _saidin._

The strange man seemed impatient, but ignored the outburst. "Do you have iron? We shall answer your three questions later. Answer ours."

"No. Where have you taken me? My wife is out there!" Or was she already dead? Why couldn't he sense her?

"Do you have any instruments of music?" He still ignored Luthan's questions.

"No!" Could she be dead? Why did he-feel _nothing_? He wanted to-to kill the man before him. But then how could he get out? He looked behind him. The doorframe was nowhere in sight.

The questioner sniffed loudly, and long, seemingly savoring the scene playing out before him."Do you possess any manner with which to create fire?"

"N-no." They didn't have to know about the power. He couldn't touch the source anyways.

"Thus is our treaty written. Follow me." He turned, and without even gesturing walked off towards one of the hallway entrances that were spaced seemingly at random. He set a fast pace, and Luthan had to half-jog to keep up.

The strange man lead Luthan through a maze of hallways, sometimes passing windows and railings open to the outside. What he saw amazed-and terrified-him. Buildings perched on needle-thin points. The world seemed to be constructed solely of straight lines and angles. To add to the sheer strangeness of the place, everything was bathed in the light of an ominous, red sun.

Suddenly, they turned a corner and entered something that resembled a throne room, although the three thrones were scattered around the space. "Is this where I can get some flaming answers?!"

The three seated men, who looked almost exactly the same as the one who had led him here, answered as one. "Yes."

"Where is my wife?" He asked, a bit less loudly. He needed to get back to her, and it didn't matter if he had to be a little bit more polite to do it.

Again they answered all as one. "Outside."

That wasn't the most helpful answer in the world. Wherever the world he was in at the time was. "Why have you brought me here?"

"To serve the Ta'veren of the First Age. You must bring about the return of the Age of Legends. Thus is the treaty written. Thus is our agreement made. You are the arrow of time."

That was... _cryptic._ "I need to get back to my wife. How do I get out of here?!" He didn't care about their blasted prophecy, or their blasted treaty.

They all stared at him for a long moment. "You have already asked your three questions." And before he could respond, he was once again blinded by a blast of white light. The roaring screech blasted his eardrums for what felt like an eternity before he found himself kneeling, once again, on the floor.

He opened his eyes, and raised his head slowly. Behind him stood the twisted redstone doorway. The room was strange, all white walls and impossibly smooth surfaces, but the people-stranger. They were wearing some sort of glossy white, full-body garb with metal tubes and clear glass-_glass!_-face masks.

The look on their faces through the masks was one of absolute surprise. Five of them stood in the room, holding various tools. After an uncomfortable minute, one of them worked up the courage to speak. But it was all flaming gibberish! No tongue Luthan had even heard of.

"Where in seven flaming hells am I?!" He seized the power and delighted in the sensation as it seared his bones to ash and froze his blood solid. He lifted all five effortlessly. When they struggled, _as if they have a chance, _he ripped all of their helmets off.

They were all shouting and speaking in some odd language he could not understand now. He did not know what to do. "Do you gutless piles of horse dung not speak any common language?!" He was just about ready to crush the lot of them when he noticed a doorway. A very-odd doorway. He melted it from its hinges, and stepped out of the room, tossing the strange men to the ground. None of them could hold the power, they were no threat. He had to find hi_s wife._

"Leanna!" He wandered the strange labyrinth he found himself in; all smooth stone walls and steel framework. _Am I underground?_ Shafts of red light flared and retreated, and a loud piercing whine assaulted him from all sides. When he came to a crossroads in the tunnels, he suddenly heard footsteps converging on him from all sides. Two dozen men had surrounded him, and they had the hard look of seasoned warriors even if they lacked swords or armor.

He drew his sword and stood ready, even as fireballs danced over his free hand. "Where is my wife, you blasted bastards?!" He roared at them, and one raised a-_ter'angreal?_ But no, he sensed no Power emanating from it, he only heard a soft "pft" and felt something hit his arm. And then he heard three more. And then there was blackness.


End file.
